She has Cameras flashing,
Her Fake smiles,
Pushing flyers.
Desperation.

Her Clean Steps,
Stars etched for glory.
She has Rainbow fountains.
Tourists with wasted cash.

There is nothing here.
Yet for me—
She’s the connection to you.
.  
Underneath her
I go, Farther and Farther
The escalator takes me down.
Watching, searching, waiting.

Take my hand,
Together we can walk
Her washed-out fame
The bizzare.

Underneath the California Pines,
On the darkened side walk,
the Roosevelt Sign
lights your face.



No where to go,
Strangers approaching.
Pull me close.

My lips,
Quickly pressed on yours.
The Naïve sweetness.
Your cultured ways.

August 31st.
You Fade with the metro
I fade with the crowd.
I have Hollywood boulevard.

Hiding tears that sting
I rise and rise
Up and up
There she is, wrapped by
The city of Angels.

I run on the highland,
Quickly down La Brea.
Pack this suitcase
I leave her behind.